


Awkward

by tuesday



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, POV Third Person, POV Tony Stark, Past Tense, Undressing, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-01-22 21:50:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: Tony's new husband had a crush, and it was awkward.





	Awkward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thinlizzy2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinlizzy2/gifts).



> This is a treat. The set up is minimal so we can get "awkward arranged marriage wedding night sex" without worrying too much how we got there. All you need to know is that there's a marriage contract between Peter and Tony's families and super powers are still a thing. Also, Infinity Wars does not happen in this.
> 
> Thank you so much to LearnedFoot for looking this over and all your help!
> 
> Redating for author reveals. Sorry if anyone sees this twice! (And, uh, about suddenly having All the Fic at once; I wrote four fic for this exchange, plus posted two recently, plus one more that's coming soon.) This is not Endgame compliant, as it was written for an exchange with a due date prior to Endgame's release.
> 
> Content advisories in the end notes.

Tony's new husband had a crush, and it was awkward. It was not made less awkward that said crush was on Tony. It made it worse, to be honest.

Peter was young, starry-eyed, and enthusiastic, and everything about him made Tony feel every one of his years, plus a few extra as payment for how thoroughly he’d lived them. Tony's original marriage contract had been to one of Peter’s aunts, who had been smart enough to take one look at Tony (who had done his own time being young, starry-eyed, and very enthusiastic about marrying the pretty and nice smelling young woman who'd been introduced as his fiancee) and run for the hills. Peter's mother had done the same. Really, a whole generation there had decided Tony was too young, too old, or entirely too much to try marrying.

Peter, meanwhile, had shown none of his predecessors' sense of self-preservation. He had failed to bring his lawyers or his guardian to that first meeting, had agreed to every one of Tony's stipulations in the contract negotiation that followed even when he did have lawyers, and had basically acted like a lamb being led to the slaughter who insisted on telling the lion that no, actually, he was happy to be eaten, really.

Tony had drawn the meetings out. He'd given Peter every opportunity to see what Tony was like, that there was a reason the previous generation had hit the ground running in the opposite direction.

He'd also given the kid a new suit, because Tony couldn't help himself, and if the kid hadn't been Spider-Man and in all ways the worthiest possible successor to Tony's company and his life, Tony wasn't sure _he_ wouldn't have taken a turn running as fast and far as possible. Maybe he'd have been able to convince Pepper or Rhodey to marry him just long enough to ensure he didn't end up marrying someone three decades his junior and who deserved someone, anyone, else. Hell, maybe Natasha or Cap would've done it if those bridges hadn't been burned down to charred and smoldering splinters of what was once strong timber.

The point was, Tony was a disaster, and despite months of exposure, Peter hadn't seen it. Still didn't see it. Was currently standing in Tony's bedroom after exchanging vows like, "'Til death do us part," and seemed happy to think that might be the very, very distant future.

Tony should have gone with the gold-digging cousin who looked like she was plotting his murder. Sure, that would've been awkward in its own way, not least the murder attempts, but she probably wouldn't be staring up at him with wide eyes and hero worship Tony found entirely too flattering. She wouldn't be fiddling with her bow tie while biting her lower lip, leaving a compelling little indentation in her lip Tony wanted to kiss away.

She definitely wouldn't say, "What, um, what did you want to—?" and trail off with the most transparently hopeful look Tony had seen since he'd told Peter he was working on a new suit as a wedding gift.

"Here, let me." Tony reached up, batted Peter's hands aside, and undid his bow tie for him. He slid it out of Peter's collar. "Why don't we start with what you want?"

"Anything?" Peter's cheeks were dusted pink.

"Yeah, sure, whatever you want." The kid was barely eighteen. Tony was fairly confident he hadn't picked up an interest in anything too wild. Even if it was really weird, well, Tony had probably done weirder. Though who knew with this generation, who'd grown up with the internet. Tony made himself tack on, "Within reason."

"Uh, no, I meant. Anything you want?" Peter said it with a lilt at the end, like a question. Tony started in on the waistcoat.

"You can't just say anything," Tony said, ignoring that's what he'd done. He'd added an addendum. "You have no idea what I could be into."

"Whatever it is, I'd be willing to try it," said the kid who'd thrown himself off a building before he'd known his new suit came equipped with gliders and a parachute. Tony didn't know why he'd expected limits. Peter shrugged off his coat and waistcoat, then laid them out on the bed like he didn't want them to get wrinkled. It was cute. He was cute.

"Okay, let's start with something a little less open-ended." Tony bowed to Peter's desire to keep their wedding tuxes in relatively good shape and retrieved hangers from the closet. "Anal. Yes or no?"

Peter swallowed. His cheeks turned a deeper red. "Yes."

"Giving or receiving?" Tony put up Peter's coat and waistcoat, then started on his own. He looked up from undoing his cuff links to raise his eyebrows. Peter had moved his nervous fiddling to his belt buckle.

"Either?" Peter pulled off his belt, which was worth seeing.

"But if you had to choose." Tony hung up his shirt and watched with interest as Peter untucked his own.

"I don't know." Peter undid his pants and stepped out of them. "I mean, I have a hypothesis, but it needs data to see if it bears out."

That was—that should not be as attractive as it felt right now. Tony did not, as a matter of course, go for virgins. Experience was good. Experience was preferable. Experience meant everyone involved knew what they were doing and hopefully had a good enough idea of their likes to communicate them to all interested parties. Try telling that to his dick, though, which had taken a definite interest in the general proceedings and the specific fact that Tony was going to get there first. Maybe it was just the way Peter had framed it. Science had always had a way of making a person unbearably sexy to Tony.

"What about blowjobs?" Tony asked casually, like he wasn't desperate to hear that he was going to be first across the board. He could always console himself by putting his own experience to use ruining Peter for all others.

Peter looked down at his shirt, fumbling with the tiny buttons. "Look, there was a reason I said that STI test was superfluous."

That had actually been put in there by Peter's family, though it had been aimed Tony's way. He wasn't offended, and it meant that if Peter were up for it, they could skip the condoms portion of the evening.

"And here I thought you were just that confident in your healing factor." Tony took over from Peter again, undoing the buttons one at a time, fingers lingering.

"It's not like I have no idea what I'm doing." Peter put his hands on Tony's hips as Tony fed another button through its attendant hole. "I've watched porn."

Tony couldn't help the mildly derisive laugh that elicited. "You've watched porn."

"And done stuff to myself." Peter's gaze was fixed on the wall over Tony's shoulder.

"Stuff, hm?" Tony pushed Peter's shirt off his shoulders, briefly regretting the loss of those warm hands against him, the way Peter had been drawing little circles on his hip bones. "That got anything to do with your hypothesis?"

Peter met Tony's eyes with a surprisingly steady gaze. "Yeah, actually."

"So I'll ask again." Tony pushed up Peter's undershirt, letting his fingers graze Peter's nipples. Peter took it the rest of the way over his head. "What's your preference, Peter? What do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me." Peter hooked his thumbs in his boxers and pulled them off. He stepped out of them, leaving this one article of clothing on the floor. He climbed into bed. His blush extended down to his chest, but he spread his legs. He was a mess of contradictory signals, all confidence and uncertainty. "If that's what you want?"

The rest of Tony's clothes ended up in a heap. His dry cleaner had fixed worse damage than a few wrinkles. The lube was where Tony had left it, and Tony brought it to bed with him.

"If I want," Tony mumbled disbelievingly to himself. To Peter, he said, "Yeah, kid. I want." Tony crawled over Peter, dropping the tube of lube beside them. "First, though—"

Tony kissed Peter, not the chaste peck that had made that entire boring ceremony worth it. Not even the slightly deeper kiss, a bit open-mouthed, that Peter had followed that up with. No, this was a kiss that involved Tony's tongue in Peter's mouth, his hands in Peter's hair, his hip pressed heavy against the velvet soft skin of Peter's half hard dick. It involved Tony biting Peter's lip, then licking it in what someone could mistake for apology. Tony wasn't sorry. Tony was only too happy to take this for himself, everything Peter was willing to give him. He swallowed down every helpless whimper, every breathless moan, every tiny sound caught in the back of Peter's throat.

Tony pulled away eventually, a terrible hardship that could only be endured by marking up Peter's neck. Peter had gotten his leg around Tony's hip, grinding up into him. Tony regretted it, but he pushed Peter's leg off. Tony had a very clear goal, and it couldn't be achieved by staying where he was. He did let himself get distracted on the way down, though, kissing and then sucking Peter's nipples until both were hard, pebbled, a dark red, and Peter was making gasping, wordless noises of pleased encouragement. Tony smiled against Peter's skin and moved on, kissing his ribs, his abs, the sharp cut of his pelvis.

"I thought you were going to—" Peter put a hand in Tony's hair. "Not that I'm complaining! Because I'm not—there are no objections here. But I thought we were going to—?"

Tony couldn't believe he was about to have sex with someone who couldn't even say it consistently, but yeah, that apparently wasn't the barrier he'd thought it would be. Tony traced a vein in Peter's dick with one curious finger and watched a little bit of pre-come spurt from the tip. "Yep, still planning on it. But it's easier when you're relaxed, and I thought you might like to experience at least this side of dick-sucking first. Maybe get a finger or two in you while I'm at it."

Tony looked up, but Peter didn't seem to have anything else to say. He had his other hand clenched in the sheets. He had that hero worship, awkward crush thing going on with his face again, all wide, shining eyes and soft expression. Tony ignored it to get his mouth on Peter's dick. That was a situation he felt more comfortable with, even when Peter's hips twitched and Tony ended up with a bit more down his throat than he'd originally planned for. Tony pulled back and covered his cough by clearing his throat.

"Hand me the lube?" Tony asked. Peter did, and Tony got back to it.

Peter was gratifyingly responsive. Tony squeezed out some lube and warmed it in his hands. In the meanwhile, he licked and sucked and teased, pulling back whenever Peter looked like he was in danger of shooting off. Peter tugged at Tony's hair a little too hard when Tony gave him the first finger, and Tony shot him a warning look only to get a dopey smile in return. Tony couldn't help his amusement, the way it pulled his face into a smile of his own.

"Gentle with the merchandise," Tony said. Peter switched to petting and oh, that was adorable. "A little light pulling's fine, but I'd rather not start thinning because my cute new husband got overenthusiastic."

"You think I'm cute?"

"You know what you are," Tony said, though maybe Peter didn't, because his smile got wider, more delighted, like Tony sucking Peter's dick was nice, but what really made his day was finding out he was attractive. "For every person at our wedding who knew about how smart you are, how sweet you are, or the superhero thing," and oh, wasn't that interesting, how Peter's flush spread further, how his dick twitched untouched when Tony called him smart and sweet, "I guarantee five more saw your face and went, 'Yeah, that checks out. No wonder Tony chose him.'"

Tony pressed a kiss to Peter's thigh as he crooked his finger, found just the right spot. "Little do they know how lucky I am. I got the full package. Looks, brains, personality. Really, it's a relief that you're not good at this, too, or I'd be feeling intimidated here."

"Yet," Peter said. He tugged again, much more gently this time. "I'm not good at this yet."

"That comes with the smart thing." Tony rubbed his jaw against Peter's thigh and enjoyed the red his goatee created against Peter's sensitive skin. "You're a fast learner. It's only a matter of time until you're perfect." Tony bit back the further thought that Peter already was. He set his tongue to a better purpose than puffing up Peter's ego.

Tony inserted a second finger, and Peter moaned at the stretch of it. He was so tight that Tony was almost hesitant to say they were actually going to do this tonight. Then again, Peter sounded and acted like he loved it, shifting against Tony's hand, grinding down on Tony's fingers with little regard for the fact Tony had his dick in his mouth.

"You can—you can give me another," Peter said. "I can take it. Please, Tony."

He really couldn't. Tony ignored Peter's begging in favor of a distraction in the form of deepthroating Peter. There was a gratifying moan, and Tony didn't pull back this time, kept going until Peter was spilling down his throat. Tony's satisfaction ran deep, occupied several levels. There was the thought, _I did that_ , observing Peter's dazed expression. There was the warm glow of a job well done. Then there was the way Peter had gone limp, loose, pliable. Tony slipped in a third finger with hardly any of the previous resistance.

"Mm." Peter spread his legs a little more as Tony slid his fingers in and out, working Peter open. "That's nice."

"Very nice," Tony agreed, watching Peter.

Peter's skin gleamed with sweat. His eyes had gone half-lidded. His lashes were clumped together. His nipples were still very, very red, puffy and perfectly kissable. He had a ridiculous smile on his face, soft and painfully sweet. When he started working his hips, meeting Tony's fingers on each thrust in, Tony removed them. He wiped the extra lube on Peter's dick, just a couple small pulls. Peter clenched his hand in the sheets again.

"Condom or no condom?" Tony asked.

"Didn't we just go over this?"

The confused expression on Peter's face was too cute. Tony had to kiss it away. "This is a question of clean up, not whether we're clean."

"Then, um. No condom?" Peter bit his lip. "I heard it, uh, feels better."

Oh, this was going to be in danger of being over fast. Tony could just tell he was going to have trouble upholding his reputation and honor as an excellent lover. He grabbed a pillow and, with Peter's cooperation, got it under his hips. Tony slicked up and lined them up, the head of his dick nudging against Peter's entrance.

"Let me know if I'm going too fast or you need to stop."

"You are doing the opposite of going too fast," Peter said. He drew a leg up behind Tony, heel digging insistently into his lower back. But his face was tense. "That means you're going too slow. You can hurry it up a little."

"Really can't," Tony gritted out, easing his way in. Peter was much tighter around the head of Tony's cock than he'd been around Tony's knuckles. It was an excruciating ecstasy. Tony wasn't just stopping to let Peter adjust. He was kind of afraid he was going to shoot off at any second here. Tony petted at Peter's hip. "Fuck, it's like I didn't stretch you at all. Try to relax a little."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"Are you clamping down on purpose?" Tony asked disbelievingly.

That shifty look was definitely not encouraging. "Tighter is better, right?"

"Not if you break my dick." Peter looked crestfallen, but Tony was still stuck on astonishment. "No, really, that can't be comfortable. For either of us. Stop trying to overachieve and just—try to enjoy the ride."

Tony gave it a moment. It got better. He gave Peter another half inch, then a little more. He went slow, slow, trying to make it last. "That's it, honey, just relax. You've got this."

"It's, ah, it's a lot," Peter said, and Tony couldn't tell if Peter was trying out dirty talk or if he was actually feeling overwhelmed. Tony stopped either way. He was maybe three-quarters in. "It's okay. It's—it's weird, but it's good?" Peter didn't look like he was sure of the truth of what he was saying. "I want to keep going. Please keep going."

Tony had never claimed he was a good man. He kept going. Peter's eyes were wide, serious, watching Tony intently like he was trying to commit every second to memory. Tony traced Peter's jaw with his thumb. Their noses brushed together as Tony fully seated himself.

"How are you doing?" Tony asked quietly.

"It's good. I'm—it feels really—" Peter huffed out a breath. "I feel full."

"Getting useful data here?"

"I would if you'd actually move."

Tony moved. Once Peter had adjusted, Tony experimented a little with depth, with force, with figuring out what angle worked best and if Peter preferred something longer, deeper, or quicker, more shallow thrusts. Peter started to get hard again. Tony wrapped a hand around him, traces of lubricant smoothing the way. A callus on Tony's thumb caught under the head of his dick, and Peter dropped his head back against the mattress.

"Can you—can you go harder?" Peter asked.

Could Tony go harder? Tony's smile was sharp. Yeah, he could go harder.

"Ask me nicely."

" _Tony_."

"Good enough." Tony went harder. He tightened his grip. He knew he wasn't going to last too much longer, but he was going to take Peter with him.

"Oh. Oh, that's—" Peter's words devolved into moans. His face had gone slack with pleasure.

Like this, Tony could almost pretend this was any other conquest from his distant past, someone cute to pass a night or hour or energetic fifteen minutes with. No hero worship, no crush, no discomfiting awareness that he was standing on an unsteady pedestal he'd tried and failed to topple himself. There was no fear of failing to meet expectations, just the comfort that he could be anyone and give Peter this. It didn't matter that he was Tony Stark, that they were freshly married, that there was no way to meet whatever ideal Peter had built up in his head of Iron Man, too young to know better than to trust the propaganda put out by the SI and Avengers PR machines. It didn't matter. What mattered was the twist Tony put into his upstroke, the slap of their skin together, the way Peter's face started to screw up as he reached his peak. Tony didn't know how to be a good husband, but he did know how to do this, to find Peter's weak points and prod them until he was pushed right over the edge.

Tony followed after.

Tony made himself sit up, get up, ignore the pull of Peter's warmth to retrieve a wet washcloth. He gave himself a good thirty seconds, letting the water run hot, to meet his own dark eyes in the mirror. He knew better than to say the words aloud, not with Peter's hearing, but he mouthed the words, _This is going to be a disaster._

"Tony?" Peter called.

"Coming," Tony called back. He wet the cloth, turned off the tap, and returned to the bedroom. "Or not. I'm not getting it up again tonight." Peter did make a very tempting figure laid out. If Tony were a younger man—well, if Tony were a younger man, this wouldn't be happening. Peter wasn't around back then. "But here I am, like a faithful dog returning to your side."

Peter looked oddly vulnerable, all alone on the wide expanse of the mattress. "Can we—" He looked away. "Never mind, it's stupid."

Tony sat down on the edge of the bed. He started clean up with Peter's abs, sticky with his own come. "Why don't you let me decide?"

Peter hunched his shoulders. "Can we cuddle, maybe?"

"You're right, that's stupid." Tony felt Peter's flinch as he wiped down his thighs. "I just promised in front of three hundred of our closest friends and family that I was going to have and hold you. I just had you. Of course I'll hold you."

And there, right there, was that awful, awkward expression again. Or maybe the awkward one here was Tony. He handed Peter the washcloth and ignored the stars in his eyes.

"Whatever you want from me, you only have to ask," Tony said.

"Me, too," Peter said, all youthful earnestness.

Tony didn't doubt he'd try. Of course he would. Tony's new husband had a crush. It was extremely, excruciatingly awkward. It was awkward most of all because in the course of a few months of being engaged, Tony had gone and fallen in love with him. Now they were married and there was no getting rid of it.

When Peter was clean, or as clean as he was going to get without a shower, Tony dropped the cloth in the laundry and climbed back into bed with him. Peter curled up against his shoulder, and Tony threaded his left hand through Peter's right. Tony leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of Peter's head.

"So. Experiment a success?"

"I think I'll need more data to be sure."

"More data, huh?" Tony's eyes kept drifting closed. "I can work with that."

—

(Tony's feelings and Peter's crush felt a lot less awkward months later when Tony realized that at some point Peter had gone and fallen in love back.)


End file.
